The Diary
by krazikrys
Summary: An aspiring crime scene investigator is found dead outside a fast food establishment. The CSI team knows this young woman from her visits to crime scenes and now must find her killer.
1. Where's Krystal

Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did though.

Warning: This story deals with rape and murder. That's why it's rated R.

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He was tall, could've been a basketball player. He was wearing a tan button-down shirt and black slacks. He was looking down at a petite young girl in a turquoise polo shirt and black pants. She was standing up against a brick wall, staring up at the man. There was a good foot and a half height difference between her and him. Her hands were flat against the brick, the sharp edges cutting into her palms. She pressed her back against the wall trying to get away from the man. He placed his hands above her shoulders next to her head. He leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head. Grabbing her cheeks, he turned her head back to face his. Keeping his hands on her face, he leaned over and kissed her hard on the lips. She tried to wiggle away, but he pressed his body up against hers. "You're mine," he whispered in her ear. "I don't care about that little prick of a boyfriend you have, you're mine." Keeping the girl near him, he reached down and unbuttoned his pants. "And just to prove that you're mine, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Nick Stokes pulled the black Chevrolet Tahoe into the McDonalds parking lot. As he parked the car near the yellow crime scene tape blocking off the dumpster area of the restaurant, he commented to the man sitting beside him, "Hm, no Krystal tonight."

The man sitting next to Nick looked at him before reaching for the handle inside the SUV and opening the door. Both men were dressed similarly in polo shirts and slacks but the younger one was wearing a black vest sporting "LVPD Crime Scene Investigations" on the back and the Las Vegas Police Department logo on the upper left front and his last name "Stokes" on the right side, and the older one was wearing a navy blue light weight jacket with "Forensics" screen-printed on the back and the Las Vegas Police Department logo on the front. From the back of the vehicle, both Nick and his superior, Gil Grissom gathered their respected field kits and walked towards the flashing lights and uniformed police officers.

An older man, slightly balding, in a suit walked up to the two crime scene investigators before they reached the tape. "What've we got?" Grissom asked the detective.

"Female, about twenty years old. Worked for the company. Discovered by a homeless guy," the detective said looking at his notebook. He was Jim Brass, Captain of the homicide investigation division of the Las Vegas police force. "Nothing's been touched. She was obviously dead when the old guy found her. Had enough sense to call 9-1-1, but he's wasted."

All three men ducked under the crime scene tape and walked over to where they could see the black shoes and black pants of the victim visible in the light cast from the cars. The top portion of her body was hidden in the shadow cast by the restaurant building. Grissom pulled out his mini MagLight flashlight and turned it on. Sweeping the area carefully, watching where he stepped so he wouldn't inadvertently destroy any evidence, he walked over to the body. Nick followed close behind watching what Grissom shone the beam of light on. He stopped the light on the victim's face and both investigators felt their hearts jump to their throats. It was Krystal Davies.

Grissom willed the emotion to go back to where it belonged. Just because he knew the victim didn't mean he had to lose his composure. In fact, he needed to remain together even more to make sure her killer was brought to justice and not let go because of his sloppiness. Nick got out the camera and began taking pictures of the victim, trying his best to keep it together. The best way for him to do that was to get right to work and keep working until he had the time to deal with it.

Grissom knelt down next to Krystal's body. Her uniform didn't look soiled and it was on straight, suggesting that she was dressed before she died. But upon closer inspection, Grissom noticed that her shirt collar was up. "Hey Nick, have you ever known Krystal to not be dressed properly?"

Nick Stokes stopped taking photographs of the scene and looked at where Grissom shone his flashlight and snapped a quick couple of pictures of the collar. "She's always perfectly dressed when I see her."

"So why is her collar up?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders. Before he went back to photographing the scene, he asked, "Did you know she worked at McDonalds?" Grissom shook his head and got up to look around the area. Outside of the boxes and waste in the trash receptacles, there was not a shred of physical evidence surrounding young Krystal. No blood, no glass, nothing. "Hey Gris, look at this," Nick said, squatting down and pointing to her neck. There were red horizontal marks over her throat. "Looks like she was strangled. Maybe her collar was up to hide the marks?"

"We'll have to see what the coroner says," said Grissom, shrugging his shoulders and not wanting to jump to conclusions.

Looking around, Nick spotted something in his flashlight beam. There was a flower bed nearby and in it was a muddy footprint. It looked fresh being the ground had just been watered. Nick went back to the Chevy Tahoe and gathered materials to make a cast of the shoe impression. Before he made the cast, Nick was sure to take pictures of the print with measurement markers.

As Nick was doing this, Grissom walked up and said casually, "Looks to be about a size thirteen or so." Probing around the parking lot with his flashlight, Grissom spotted a Honda Accord in a parking stall near the front doors. "Who's car is that?" he asked Brass.

"R.O. is your vic," Brass replied as he hurried to catch up with the CSI heading towards the car.

Grissom's flashlight cut through the darkness in the car as he examined the inside of the car. "The doors are locked," he commented and then turned to Nick. "Hey Nick," he called. "Does she have keys in her pocket?"

Nick walked over to Krystal's body and patted her pockets gently. There in the left hand side was a small key ring with a car key and house key on it. There was also a black round plastic coil on the key ring. He handed the keys to a uniformed police officer who too the ring and carried it over to Grissom. Placing the keys in Grissom's latex-gloved hand, he bowed his head and briskly walked back over to where Nick was pouring the plaster-of-Paris for the mold of the shoe impression.

Grissom glanced on last time over his shoulder at Nick, who was finishing up and heading to the back door to dust for fingerprints, before he slid the car key into the lock on the door. Searching inside the driver's side with just his flashlight beam through the window before opening the door, he carefully lifted the handle and pulled the blue door open. Grissom looked at the interior of the car. It was spotless. The scent of a cleaning agent still hung in the air. "She just cleaned her car," he said out loud. Although he didn't suspect anything had happened in the car, he still looked around. He found a pair of blue jeans and a tee shirt folded up in the backseat, along with a pair of Nike tennis shoes on the floorboard. There were two clothes hangers hanging up in the back with a simple gray sweatshirt jacket hung on one. On the front seat was a notebook. Carefully, Grissom picked it up. Opening to the first page he read what was written there:

August 1 

Crime Scene Location: Lake Meade

CSI(s) attending: Grissom, Stokes

Beyond that were notes on the scene. Girssom realized that this must be one of the many notebooks he had seen her writing in while on the scene with them. That's how the team knew of Krystal: she was an aspiring crime scene investigator and spent her free time at crime scenes observing actual investigations. It had started as an assignment for one of her classes, but she began to relate to the investigators. She really wanted the coveted internship on the night shift at CSI, so she spent time with them, hoping to learn enough by observing to actually earn the spot.

Grissom closed the notebook and bagged everything in the car as evidence.

While Grissom was combing the car, Nick was lifting fingerprints on the outside of the door. With a little luck, he might be able to get a match on the prints and find out who killed Krystal. The coroners were gently placing Krystal's body in a body bag and lifting it up to set it on a stretcher.

Grissom watched the van with Krystal's body as it rolled away off to the morgue. He couldn't help thinking about the promise that Krystal had. He had just found out that day that she had been assigned to be the night shift intern. The internship was a yearlong assignment and the last thing completed to fulfill the graduation requirements. She would have been graduating that spring. She wasn't going to find out about the internship for another week, but he knew and he had been looking forward to helping her along the long road that was forensic science.


	2. Surprise

On the way back to headquarters, Nick collected Krystal's clothes from David Phillips, the coroner's assistant and then headed to an empty lab room at CSI headquarters. Since they hadn't found much in the way of physical evidence at the scene, he decided to go over her clothes before everything was released to her family. He inspected the clothes Grissom had bagged from her car first and found nothing of concern. Some change in one of the pockets of the jeans. No stray hairs or fibers on any of the clothes. Her uniform was standard issue from McDonalds, nothing usual about that. He started with the turquoise polo shirt. It was fifty percent polyester and fifty percent cotton, like every other fast food chain in the country. While Nick was going over every inch of the shirt with clear tape and a magnifying glass, his brain started remembering the first time he met the young woman.

_Nick had been wandering around the parking lot crime scene for about an hour when he noticed a young female standing by the yellow crime scene tape taking notes. He'd walked over to Detective Ray O'Riley, the detective on the scene, and asked, "Hey, who's the girl? Not some reporter I hope."_

_O'Riley grinned. "Nah, just some UNLV student."_

_Nick walked over to her. "Hey, what 'cha up to?" he asked as he approached._

_"Just taking notes, that's all," the woman replied._

_"Is it required for a class or something?" he inquired, stepping closer to the tape._

_She glanced up at him. She had the most intriguing brown eyes. "Or something," she replied with a smile. "It started as a class assignment, but I'm way done with that. Plus, the profs would never encourage us to go out and visit the night shift. They're all Eckly's followers." She shuffled the notebook in her hand and said, "My name's Krystal by the way. I'm hoping for an internship in the fall."_

_Nick smiled. Ah, the coveted internship at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It was very hard to come by. "Well, good luck," he said. "Oh, and I'm Nick. Nick Stokes."_

_"Nice to meet you Nick. Good luck on the case."_

Nick had gone on to solve the case but never forgot Krystal. But then again, it was hard to forget her when she showed up at almost every crime scene. If she wasn't there, he knew it had to be because another call had come in at the same time. But not tonight. Tonight had been different and it rattled him to the bone.

After searching the entire piece of fabric for anything, all Nick found was grease probably from the fryers. He also found tan dust on the back of the shirt. They were almost crumb-like. He gathered the crumbs and placed them in a tiny envelope. He then sent the crumbs to trace for analysis. Nick then went on to the black cotton slacks and pulled out everything that was in the pockets. A folded up piece of paper and a standard men's wallet. Inside the wallet were her Nevada driver's license, her UNLV campus identification, and about five dollars in cash. Nick then moved over to the paper and carefully unfolded it. It was from the Clark County Health Department's clinic there in Las Vegas. They offered low cost examinations for those who couldn't afford health insurance. Nick read over the paper and saw that it was results from a pregnancy test. The test had been positive, dated just the day before. Nick got up quickly and took the paper with him. He headed off in search of Grissom. He would want to know this. This was a possible motive.

Checking the break room and finding only fellow investigator Warrick Brown there, he asked if he had seen their boss. "I think he's doing a post," he replied.

"Thanks," said Nick as he hurried off to the morgue before Warrick could ask any more questions.

Dressed in a light blue lab coat over his work clothes, Gil Grissom walked into the autopsy bay. He said hello to Al Robbins, the gray haired coroner. "So..." Girssom prompted.

Robbins stared at Grissom across Krystal's dead body. "She died of asphyxiation by strangulation. Based on the bruising on her neck and lack of rigor mortis, time of death was approximately two in the morning." Grissom nodded. "The ligature marks suggest a cord of some kind. No fibers were found, so it wasn't a rope. Also the bruising on the wrists suggest a struggle. Did a kit on her and sent it to DNA for you." Robbins held up her left hand. "Found skin under her fingernails. Sent it to trace for you."

Grissom was still trying to get over the fact that he was staring down at Krystal Davies' body on that metal autopsy table. "Thank you," he absentmindedly said.

"I found minor cuts on her hands and a white crumbly substance in the cuts." Robbins held up a piece with forceps. "I sent that out as well. I did a pregnancy test and found that she was approximately eight weeks pregnant," Robbins told the head CSI.

Grissom raised an eyebrow just as Nick Stokes came plowing into the autopsy bay. "Gris, Krystal was pregnant," he said, trying to catch his breath.

Grissom turned to the younger man. "I know, Nick." Grissom then turned back to the coroner. "Anything you can tell me about the killer?"

"I'll know more later," Robbins replied.

"Thank you."

As Nick and Grissom walked out of the autopsy bay, Grissom asked how Nick knew Krystal was pregnant.

"She had a letter from County Health about it in her uniform pocket," Nick told Grissom as he handed over the letter. "It was probably so she could show her boss or something."

"Probably," was all Grissom said as they rounded a corner. After several moments of silence, he spoke up again. "Have you looked at the prints yet?"

"Not yet," Nick told his boss. "I figured you'd want to know about the pregnancy thing. The prints are next on my list."

"Good." Grissom then headed off to his office and Nick went the other way back to the lab.

In the lab, Nick scanned the cast of the shoe print into the computer and got that it was a size thirteen, left foot of a non-skid shoe. The search was only narrowed to about five thousand employees in the food service industry in the city of Las Vegas. The shoe itself was too common. Every restaurant in town required their employees to wear non-skid shoes. The size however was unique. Also the fact that it was found outside a restaurant narrowed the search. Nick figured it had to be someone working there at that particular McDonalds on East Lake Mead Boulevard. Nick ran a hand through his short brown hair. This case was bothering him, as it would have rattled anyone. Finding someone you know dead is an experience that Nick didn't really like about this job. Granted it didn't happen often, but every now and again it did.


	3. Meeting Sandy

At nine that morning, Grissom, Nick and Brass were standing McDonalds door thinking about how to approach this. They walked in together and were greeted by a red head behind the counter in a turquoise shirt and matching visor with a name tag that said "Jen."

"Hi, how may I help you this morning?" Jen asked.

"Is your manager available?" Jim Brass asked.

Jen looked a little surprised, but replied, "Let me go check for you, sir."

Jen then hurried off to the back. Grissom was already wandering around near the drink bar getting a feel for the restaurant. There was a handful of people in the dining room eating various breakfast foods. Grissom turned around just as a woman about five-five in height with shoulder length blonde hair came around a corner in the back kitchen. She was dressed in a khaki colored button down shirt and a tie. "My name's Sandy, the store manager," she said as she got to the counter. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

Brass held up his badge. "I'm Detective Jim Brass. Nick Stokes and Gill Grissom of the Las Vegas Crime Lab," he said, indicating each of the men in turn. "We'd like to talk to you about one of your employees."

Sandy McPherson raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"Krystal Davies."

Sandy smiled. "Krystal's not here right now. She typically works nights," Sandy said quickly.

Brass held out his hand palm up, "Let's go sit down, Sandy." He led Sandy to a booth and she purposefully sat facing the counter so she could watch the crew work. Brass sat down opposite her while Nick grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up to the table. Grissom stood off to side, watching the whole exchange.

"So what's this about Krystal?" she asked placing her hands on the painted wood surface.

Brass cleared his throat. "We found Krystal early this morning outside your restaurant. She appears to be the victim of a homicide. We need to talk to your crew to find out what happened last night."

Sandy stared at the men before her. She couldn't believe the words she was hearing. Krystal was one of her best employees. "How'd she die?" she asked, stoically.

Nick and Grissom exchanged glances before Nick stated, "Strangulation. Who was she working with her last night?"

Sandy thought for a minute. "Um, I know David was the closing manager. Um, Steve and Julie were also there, oh and Dylan, but he left at twelve-thirty. Do you think someone on my crew did it?"

"Possibly," Brass said.

"Did Krystal have any enemies that you knew of?" Nick asked looking over at the manager.

"Not that I know of, but I don't work with her much. So you probably would want to check with the people she works with."

"Did you know Krystal was pregnant?" Grissom asked.

Sandy blinked. "Yes. She told me yesterday."

"When would we be able to speak with the people who were working last night?" Brass inquired.

"They're all scheduled to work tonight. I guess this means I need to call in another drive through person. Krystal was scheduled tonight. So, um, probably tonight sometime. After eight though, because of dinner."

"Thank you," Brass said as the group got up to leave. As they walked out the door, Nick glanced at Grissom again.

"Was it just me, or was she acting a little weird?"

"It wasn't just you," Grissom replied.

Said Brass as they reached their respected vehicles, "She's hiding something. Let's come back tonight and dig it up."

"More OT, huh?" Nick asked as the two investigators climbed into the sport utility vehicle.

Grissom tilted his head. "Only long enough to talk to her parents," he commented, as Nick maneuvered the vehicle to follow Brass to Krystal's parents' house, which Brass had dug up while they had waited for the restaurant to open.

The meeting with Krystal's parents didn't go well. Initially, they thought that the two CSIs where there to let them know of their daughter's internship, but when the found out the news, Krystal's mother was in tears and her father was trying his best to keep his composure.

"She talked a lot about you Dr. Grissom," Mrs. Davies told the CSI supervisor. "She always called to tell me how you would solve a case using insects or some other strange way. I regret that I never took much interest in her chosen field." Mrs. Davies broke down into a fresh set of tears.

As the trio was ushered out, Mr. Davies thanked them for letting them know what had happened, and also told the officers to keep them informed, of which Brass said they would do.


	4. The Diary

That evening, with a search warrant in hand, Nick and Grissom followed the homicide detective to an apartment building near the outskirts of town. The group parked their cars outside the building and went to the manager's office. The manager, a thirty-something man with white blonde hair was shocked to learn that the police wanted to search Krystal's apartment, but when they told him the news, his face fell. He grabbed his keys and led the trio out of the office. The group climbed the stairs in silence and when they reached the floor that Krystal's apartment was on, the manager just led the way to the door. The man slid the key into the dead bolt and undid the lock, allowing them entrance into the single bedroom unit. Upon entering the living room, the two CSIs and the detective were blown away at what they found. There was a white board mounted on the far wall next to a bulletin board. Beside that was a four shelve bookcase full of three-ring binders. On an end table were a police quality scanner and a map of the area with a Las Vegas Police Code list sitting next to it. The furniture was sparse and simplistic. It reminded Grissom of his own life: solitary and simple. "I'll take the bedroom," Nick said, sliding latex gloves on and moving towards the closed door at the end of the short hallway.

Opening the door, Nick spotted the dresser with the mirror over it. Taped to the mirror was an envelope simply labeled: "Dr. Grissom." Touching the edge of the envelope slightly so that he could read it, Nick called out, "Hey Gris, you may wanna come here."

Out in the living room, Grissom was just slipping on his own pair of latex gloves when Nick called to him. He walked the few paces to the door and saw what Nick was touching. Peeling the taped envelope off the mirror, Grissom slid open the unsealed flap and pulled out a folded piece of typing paper. He read over the note quickly.

Dear Dr. Grissom,  
If you're reading this right now, it means I'm dead and you're searching my apartment for clues as to who the killer is. I'll save you some time. In the top drawer of my night stand is a diary. In its pages are the clues you might be looking for.  
Sincerely,  
Krystal Davies

Grissom walked over to the night stand and slid open the top drawer. There was nothing in it except the diary, which the investigator slid carefully out. It was a mere composition book from one of the office stores. The kind teachers bought for their students to write journal entries in. Grissom opened the hard-bound black cover and skimmed through the pages. All of them seemed to be filed. He asked Nick for an evidence bag and put the diary inside and bagged the note separately.

He then went out into the living room to continue searching as Nick went on in the bedroom. Grissom walked over to the bookcase and pulled out one of the three-ring binders. In it he found pages and pages of notes taken from crime scenes. The language was so descriptive he almost didn't need pictures, but even then there were photographs of some of the procedures that were described. Grissom remember that on several instances Kyrstal had a camera with her. When he inquired about it, she told him it was for procedures and not actually crime scene photos. Why they let her get away with all that she did, he didn't know.

Next, Grissom moved over to the bulletin board. Tacked to it was map of the greater Las Vegas area. There were pushpins at locations all over the map of the city. Grissom suspected they were of crime scenes. If they were, you could certainly tell the areas of frequent nighttime crime. Continuing to move around the room, he encountered something he wasn't expecting: a television. Beside it was another bookcase, this time full of video cassettes. He read the titles, none of which seemed to indicate much of what was on them. They were simply labeled "Tape 1," "Tape 2," etc. He pulled out "Tape 1" and popped it into the VCR. Turning on the television, he saw that the tape contained forensic science shows. Beneath the two shelves of VHS tapes, Grissom found more three-ring binders. Opening one, he found descriptions of what was on each of the tapes. Upon further inspection, he found the three-ring binders each to be labeled with the same names as the tapes. Inside were details of what procedures were used in each episode of the forensic science shows. The girl was dedicated; Grissom could say that.

In the bedroom, Nick was examining the bedclothes for any DNA evidence. Under the ultraviolet light, the bodily fluids glowed. "Oooh, Krystal's been having some fun!" Nick sang out.

Grissom walked back down the short hall to see what Nick was all excited over. "What was that?" he asked coolly.

Nick shone the light over the bed again in the dark, "Look Gris. She's had somebody in bed with her."

"Yeah, but when?" Grissom asked.

Nick thought for a minute. "Well, it had to be during the day because she was either working or out on the scenes with us. And more than likely it was over the past few months during the summer break from school because she probably didn't come home much during the school year."

Grissom stared at Nick before commanding, "Bag it; we'll have Greg run the DNA." As Nick was bagging the sheets, Grissom wandered into the bathroom. In the tiny trash can by the toilet, he found an empty pregnancy test box. Inside the box was the testing device. According to the back of the box, the device read positive. Krystal obviously hadn't believed it and went in for a second test, just to make sure.

Grissom continued his trek around the tiny apartment. In the kitchen he found a refrigerator only partially full, along with the cabinets being half full told Grissom that she didn't spend much time at home. He was the same way; cupboards practically bare and experiments in his refrigerator instead of food. He knew by walking around her tiny apartment, which served as her operating base more than anything else that she would have made a great addition to their team.

Nick continued searching, but after about thirty minutes of finding no other glaring evidence of who could've possibly killed Krystal, the duo decided to call it quits for the search. Plus they had to get going to McDonalds on East Lake Mead Boulevard. They needed to talk to the crew members before any of them got anxious and decided to skip town. Right now they were the only lead they had to go on.


	5. Interviewing the Team

Nick and Brass sat in the back of the restaurant watching the crew up front. Grissom stood behind the both of them, arms folded across his chest. Another crew member had been called in to take over for the crew as they came over and spoke with the investigators. First up was Julie Stevens. She was a blonde haired girl of about nineteen with sparkling blue eyes. She was tall, about five-eight and even in the turquoise polo shirt that was standard for the crew, she still looked like a model.

"So Julie," Brass started, "how well did you know Krystal?"

Julie, who was still getting over the shock of Krystal's death, grabbed her ponytail and played with it. "Pretty well, I guess, considering that she was always at school or busy with work for school. I went over to her place a couple of times."

"Anything unusual happening here at work? Did she have any enemies?"

Julie thought for a moment. "No, everyone liked her. Nothing really strange happened. David and her fooled around a lot. You know, teasing and stuff. But that was just Krystal. She was very spunky here at work. Teased all the guys who worked here."

Nick smiled. Krystal was very flirtatious, even with him on crime scenes. He didn't think she meant to be; it was just part of who she was. "Did she have a boyfriend that you knew of?" Nick asked.

Julie grinned. "Yeah. It was pretty recent, though." Julie stopped playing with her hair and folded her hands, as if she had finally realized her nervous habit. "I think his name was Greg. He came through a lot. About five-ish or so. Maybe six. All I knew is that when they started dating Krystal was a different person. They always went to breakfast though," Julie commented. "I think it was because he worked nights or something."

"What does Greg do?" inquired Brass.

"He's some type of scientist, I think," Julie replied.

Nick and Grissom exchanged glances. They had an idea of whom Julie was referring, but didn't think it was possible.

"How was Krystal a different person? Grissom asked.

Julie replied instantly, "Well, she's always perky at work. But outside of work she's very quiet. Always observing stuff. But when her and Greg started dating, outside of work she was just as perky as when she's at work."

The last thing that Nick did was to take Julie's fingerprints and a left shoe print for comparison to the prints that he found at the scene.

The group interviewed Dylan Farlon and Steve Graves and both confirmed the drive through guy as being a regular and Krystal talking about going to breakfast with him. Also, as part of the interview process, Nick took shoe prints and fingerprints from the two men.

Last up was David Pelandale. He sat down at the booth quickly, wanting to get this over with so he could get back to work.

"So David, tell us about you and Krystal." Brass started.

David shrugged his shoulders. "Not much to tell. She's a tease. I keep her in line. That's it. If I were you, I'd look into that boyfriend of hers."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"He practically stalked her until she went out with him."

If this was Greg Sanders they were talking about, Grissom knew that he wouldn't _stalk_ someone. So he countered with, "What do you mean?"

David leaned forward on his elbows towards the men as if he was going to share a big secret with them. "He comes through only on the nights that Krystal's working and orders French fries and a soda just so he can talk to her. He asked her out like ten times before she finally said yes."

"How long has he been coming here?" Nick asked.

David though for a bit. "Probably since May." Brass nodded at the man.

Getting David's prints was not a problem. He willingly gave them up, and while Nick was taking the shoe impression, he noticed that David's approximate size was thirteen. He made a mental note to check on that particular print first.


	6. The Boyfriend

On their way into the building, Grissom's pager went off. It was Greg Sanders in the DNA lab. He obviously had something for them, so the shift supervisor and other investigator headed towards the DNA lab first before going anywhere else. Grissom and Nick walked in on Sanders as he was sitting there staring at the wall. "What have you got for us Greg?" Nick asked.

The usually excitable young lab technician with short, usually spiked, light brown hair and brown eyes blinked slowly and turned his head ever so slight to look at the two men who had entered the room. "Nothing," he said flatly.

Nick stared at him. "What do you mean nothing? Then why did you page?"

Sanders blinked again. "I thought I'd let you know I finished with the epithelials and the semen. I ran the DNA through CODIS and got nothing. It might be nice to have a reference sample to compare it to."

"How did you know Krystal?" Grissom asked softly, knowing full well what the answer was. He had noticed that Sanders had been a little too happy the past month or so, practically singing lab results.

"She worked at McDonalds," was Sanders' only answer.

Nick pieced it together and then said, "You two were dating, weren't you?"

Sanders just turned his back. "Nice of you to notice Nick."

Nick held up his hands and turned and walked out of the lab.

"Grissom," Sanders said before the supervisor left. "I did get one hit off it though." Sanders looked at the results on his desk. "The DNA Doc Robbins gave me matched another sample I ran about two months ago. I think the case was Sara's. Didn't catch the guy though."

"Possible serial rapist?" Grissom asked.

Sanders shrugged his shoulders. "Find the guy Sara was looking for and you'll have the guy who raped Krystal."

"Time to go talk to Sara," Grissom said. He placed a hand on Sanders' shoulder. "We'll get this guy."

Sanders just nodded slowly.


	7. What Sara Knows

Gil Grissom found Sara Sidle in one of the labs, going over evidence. She was so lost in her work, with her dark hair flowing over her shoulders, that she didn't see or hear the night shift supervisor come into the room.

"Ahem," Grissom coughed. "Am I disturbing anything?"

Sara picked up her head quickly, to the point of showing her surprise, and looked at Grissom. His gray hair looked somewhat disheveled and his blue eyes told her something awful had happened. "No, not at all," she said, wondering what the bad news could be.

Grissom sat down on a stool nearest Sara. Sara found it disturbing to have her boss sitting down, so she sat down on a stool as well. "Did you ever meet Krystal Davies?" he asked her.

Sara looked surprised. She was expecting something worse than that question. "The UNLV student studying to be a forensic scientist?" she clarified more for herself. Grissom nodded. "Yeah, I met her a couple of times, why?"

Grissom bowed his head for a moment and when he looked up at Sara, she could swear his eyes were glassy from tears. After a huge sigh, he said, "She was found tonight outside her work, apparently a victim of a homicide."

Sara's expression said all that words couldn't. She was shocked and saddened by the news. She couldn't think of a thing to say.

"We believe she was raped before she was murdered," Grissom continued. "Greg ran the DNA and said it matched a sample you had brought in about two months ago."

Sara's mind raced for the case that Grissom was referring to. "Was it a murder case?" she asked.

"I don't think so. I think it was a rape case, you didn't catch the guy, Greg said."

Sara's eyes lit up. She knew which case it was and ironically enough, it was Krystal's case.

_Sara had just finished a particularly grueling case and was headed inside the CSI building. She was just past the main lobby, heading into the bowels of the building, when she heard the doors open. A familiar voice, though strained by stress, begged the receptionist, "I need to see Sara Sidle."_

_"I'm sorry," the receptionist told her, "but Sara is unavailable right now."_

_"Please," the voice pleaded. "I need to speak with Sara."_

_At that point Sara recognized the voice as Krystal's and turned around to see what the problem was. When the petite brunette had seen Sara, she ran for her, but didn't embrace her. "Sara," Krystal said, "I need you to come with me." Sara saw that Krystal's face was tear stained and her eyes were puffy._

_"Where?"_

_"Desert Palms," was all Krystal said, referring to the local hospital._

_"Why?"_

_Krystal whispered, "I was raped."_

_Sara's eyes flashed hatred, not at Krystal, but at the man who had done this to her. She immediately understood. Walking over to the receptionist's desk, she told the woman behind the counter, "Call over to the police department and have Officer Margaret Thao meet me at Desert Palms." Turning to Krystal who was near tears, she asked, "How did you get here?"_

_"Drove," Krystal said, losing her will with every moment._

_"When did this happen?"_

_"About ten minutes ago."_

_Sara was shocked. Most rape victims wouldn't have come down to the police right away. "And you didn't shower?" Krystal shook her head. "You didn't change clothes?" Again Krystal shook her head. Sara continued to be amazed. "All right, leave your car here and I'll process it, okay?" Krystal nodded her agreement. "I'll drive." Another nod. Heading out to the black Tahoe, Sara grabbed a blanket from the back and set it on the passenger seat. Krystal was shaking as though she was cold, but Sara knew better. It wasn't lack of heat; it was fear. Krystal climbed in without saying a word and in silence, they drove to the hospital._

_When they got there, Krystal made Sara promise not to tell anyone at headquarters, especially Grissom. She also asked Sara to call Julie from work. Julie had a spare key to her apartment, Krystal told Sara. She wanted fresh clothes. Sara agreed and called Julie and told her that Krystal was okay, but just to go over to Krystal's place and bring her a change clothes. Julie agreed and by the time Sara was off the phone, Officer Thao was there._

_"What's the matter, Sara?" Officer Thao asked. She was Asian with jet-black hair and brown almond shaped eyes. Her skin was flawless and even though she was only a little taller than five feet, she looked as if she could handle anyone that got in her way._

_"It's Krystal," Sara said, placing a hand on Krystal's shoulder. "She's been raped."_

_"Do you know by whom?" Thao asked._

_Krystal kept her mouth shut._

_When Krystal was finally ushered into a room, she made Sara stay through the entire agonizing rape kit. Blood and swabs were taken. It was terrifying for Krystal. She shook through the whole ordeal. When she was done, Krystal changed into the clothes Julie had brought and went with Sara and Officer Thao to the cafeteria to talk._

_Krystal told everything that she could remember, except who had done this to her. Sara suspected that Krystal knew whom it was, she was just afraid to tell._

_Sara went on to examine the evidence, releasing Krystal's car to her the next day after not finding anything to show that the car was where it had happened. She had Greg run the DNA through CODIS and got nothing. Over the next two months she waited for Krystal to come to grips with what had happened to her and tell who had done this, but she never told._

"I know Krystal knew who it was," Sara told Grissom, after recounting the horrific tale. "But she refused to give us a name. Even Greg didn't know who it was, and he sees her every night just about."

"So the case went unsolved?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah. I didn't tell you about it because Krystal made me promise. She didn't want you to know Gil. She thought it make her look weak and then you wouldn't accept her as a scientist." Grissom smiled gently at Sara. He knew that she took Krystal's case very seriously and the fact that Krystal had known who had done this to her and wouldn't tell only frustrated Sara to no end.

"The only thing we can do now is work the evidence," Grissom said, trying to be comforting. Sara just rolled her eyes and went back to her evidence.


	8. Telling the Boyfriend

Gil Grissom sat down behind his desk just as Greg Sanders walked up. "Can I talk to you?" the young man asked.

Grissom blinked at him and replied, "Sure Greg."

Sanders closed the door behind him and sat down in a chair opposite Grissom. He folded his hands and hunched over, dangling his hands between his knees. "I know you wanna know what's up with Krystal and I," he stated.

"It would be nice."

Sanders sighed. "Well, I've been going to that McDonalds for a long time. Usually I don't go as often as I have been." He stopped and ran a hand through his short brown hair. "See, I went through drive through one night when she was there and got such great service for only a fry and a soda that I had to go back. I kept going every night before work just to see if she was there." He looked up at the man across the desk from him. "I didn't start hitting on her until July. I asked her out on a date and we decided it had to be breakfast. So after we went out, I sent her flowers. Just little things like that. I'd leave her cards on her car or candy at work. We'd go out for breakfast once a week. It's only been a semi-serious thing for about a month or so."

Grissom regarded the young analyst in front of him. After spending so much time listening to his antics, Grissom knew that he wasn't joking. "So you didn't know she was pregnant?"

Sanders sat straight up and stared at the CSI supervisor. "She was pregnant?"

"According to the coroner and the Clark County Health Center."

"How far along was she?"

"About six weeks. Was the baby yours?"

Sanders shook his head. "No. We hadn't even gone there. We'd only kissed a couple of times. I was hoping to make this a serious thing after her internship was over, if we lasted that long. I didn't want it to ruin her chances or anything."

"Was she seeing anyone before you?" Grissom inquired.

"Not that she mentioned. Her last boyfriend was over three years ago. They broke up because of school. At least that's what she told me."

"Greg, would mind if we ran your DNA?"

The lab technician knew this was coming. "Why?"

"You were the boyfriend. This way we can exclude you. You already have a rock solid alibi, but this will completely exclude you. I'll have the day people run it so the DA won't have a fit."

Sanders sighed, "All right."

"Greg, this case has us all shook up over it. It's hard when you lose someone who you were thinking would make a great addition to the team. It's even harder when you care about them. But we just have to press on with the evidence. The evidence is going to tell her story for us."

Sanders nodded and got up to leave. "Lemme know when you got someone I can compare DNA to. I know it'll help."

Grissom smiled faintly at the young lab rat as he walked out of the office. He knew Sanders wouldn't cry over this or show any emotion whatsoever, instead he would immerse himself in his work, trying to move on. Grissom then pulled the bag that contained Krystal's diary in it near him. He wanted to read what she had written, because he wasn't sure what she meant in the note. Slipping on his oval frame-lens reading glasses, he opened the notebook to the first page and began reading.


	9. Diary Entry

February 18

_Dear, dear diary  
__I wanna tell my secrets  
__'Cause you're the only one  
__That I know who'll keep them  
__Dear, dear diary  
__I wanna tell my secrets  
__And this is what I've done  
__I've been a bad, bad girl  
__For so long  
__I don't know how to change  
__What went wrong_

Dear Diary,

I don't know what happened tonight. I was working drive through, like I normally do. It was kind of slow, not a ton of customers, just a couple of regulars. The French fry guy, the Super Size number one guy. No one really to write home about. But then, around ten, a car pulled up to the speaker. It was a girl. She asked to speak to a guy. So I handed David the other headset and listened in on the car. She asked David if she and her friends flashed him, if he would give them free food. Of course we can't. So when David told them that, but they were welcome to flash us anyway. I couldn't believe he had said that. So the girls drove up to the window without ordering anything. But instead of David being there, I was there. The girls just giggled and drove away. About half a second later, David walked up. "Where'd they go?" he asked me. I just shrugged my shoulders.

The rest of the night he was pissed at me. He completely ignored me, not saying even one word to me. He would normally say things to me, like when I need my drawer counted or he's helping me get food. I could tell he was upset with me. I believe it was because I didn't let him see the girls. I could help it. I was standing there. I think he might want me to show him my breasts, but he never said that directly, so I don't know for sure. Maybe he wants more. All I know right now is that he didn't say anything to me all night after that. Not that I mind. Sometimes David's comments can get a little racy. I know I should probably talk to him about his comments, but some of the guys make comments just the same and I know they're teasing, so David has got to be teasing, right?

A call came in about two. I had just gotten home pretty much. The car spooked me. I don't know why. I found it difficult to keep my eyes on the scene and my head out of the clouds. This was a simple home invasion robbery, so there wasn't much to see. No blood, no guts. Nothing new that I haven't seen before. Fingerprinting the entry point. Casting the prints left at the scene. My notebook is getting pretty full of the usual stuff. And it's only been two months since the assignment. I really need to get into the lab to see the _real_ forensic science go on. The DNA, the conferring with others, the testing of other evidence and piecing all together. The application for the internship is due on March 1. I need to work on my essay. I really hope I get assigned to the night shift. They are so much more interesting than Ecklie's day crew.


	10. Grissom's Reflections

Grissom stopped reading after that one entry. He couldn't believe what he was reading. The little protégé that he had grown to really admire had been having problems at work. Could this "David" fellow be the one that had raped her? It was only the initial entry in the diary and he could tell that she wanted to be a scientist more than anything. She didn't talk much about friendships or relationships with people, instead she stuck to the facts. A car had driven up. Wanted free food. She did what she had been trained to do. And now, her superior wouldn't talk to her. Could more be going on in the life of this young girl than he knew? Having closed the notebook, Gil Grissom thought back on the first night he ever met Krystal Davies.

_Upon arriving at the crime scene, he found a young woman, probably about twenty years old or so, hanging around the tape. He had asked Jim Brass about her and was promptly told that she refused to leave. So he went over to talk to her._

_"Hi, what's your name?" Grissom asked the young woman._

_"Krystal," she replied._

_"What are you doing out here tonight?"_

_She smiled softly. "I heard about the crime scene and I thought I'd come check it out." She must have thought she sounded crazy because she added, "I'm not a sicko. I wanna be a criminalist. I'm in the forensic science program at UNLV."_

_Grissom smiled at her. He remembered his own drive to become a scientist. "Well, Krystal, I'm Gil Grissom. Did you see what happened tonight?"_

_"Nope. Just got here. Just wanna watch real forensic science in action." She grinned at him and he nodded at her._

_"Okay, but it's not as action packed as it seems," Grissom replied._

_"I know."_

Her dedication and willingness to stand out in the quickly dropping desert temperature just to observe his evidence collection had struck Grissom. Not many people would be willing to watch the tedious task of staring at the ground. But for some reason, she just stood there watching, every so often jotting down one thing or another, but mainly her eyes were on him and what he was doing.

Grissom took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. It was just mind boggling to him that she wouldn't tell him what was going on.

Just as he was thinking of going and talking to either Catherine or Sara about this thought of his, Catherine Willows showed up at his office door.

"Rough night?" she asked.

Grissom looked up at her. "You could say that. Did you ever meet Krystal Davies?" he inquired, knowing the answer full well.

Catherine didn't even take a moment to think. "She's that petite brunette who comes to crime scenes every night." Grissom nodded as Catherine sat down in one of the chairs across from Grissom's desk. "What's up with her?"

Grissom folded his hands slowly and said, "We found her last night, victim of a homicide."

Catherine shook her head, moving her short blond hair around her face. "She held such promise." Catherine looked at Grissom. "Where are you in the investigation?"

"Not very far," Grissom admitted. Handing over crime scene photos, Grissom explained, "She was strangled with a cord of some type. Raped before she was murdered. Greg matched DNA to whoever raped her two months ago. Found fingerprints and a footprint at the scene. Haven't matched them yet. Nick's working on the prints now. We hope to find a match soon. Not much at her residence. Found a diary. Looks to be detailing harassment maybe." Grissom leaned forward, placing a hand under his chin. "Sara told me she handled Krystal's rape two months ago. Krystal made her promise not to tell me. She didn't want me to find out."

Catherine smiled at her boss. "She respected you Gil. She saw this as a weakness. She wanted you to think she was strong. What else does she say in her diary?" Catherine got up and closed the door as Grissom began to read aloud the next three entries.


End file.
